In monthly meetings and a just-published anthology, the Vile Body's young conservatives take the measure of yuppiedom

To anyone who has seen the mini-hit film Metropolitan, the setting will be instantly familiar. This large, chastely furnished library, in a town house on Manhattan's Upper East Side, was where the callow preppies of "Sally Fowler's rat pack" were filmed during their postdance gabfests. On a Wednesday evening the place is filled with grownup baby boomers, many of them huddled at a small bar near the door. But the talk, for the most part, isn't about Hamptons and debentures. A petite blond writer in an electric red dress speculates for a guest about what might happen at National Review now...